


black cats and pumpkins gleam.

by thedestroycr



Series: ColdFlash Week Fall 2019 [4]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: ColdFlash Week 2019, Hallmark Movie Fic Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 23:16:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20786672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedestroycr/pseuds/thedestroycr
Summary: Barry is in desperate need of a job and beggars can't be choosers. Leonard is in desperate need of a baby-sitter no matter how hard he denies it.Iris is just sick of listening to her best friend complain. Lisa wants whats best for her brother and nephew.





	black cats and pumpkins gleam.

**Author's Note:**

> so anyone who knows me knows that im a slut for Halloween so??? its no surprise that im writing a fic inspired by my fave hallmark movie October Kiss! for coldflash week fall 2019 day 4 prompt: hallmark au
> 
> also i love the concept of michael snart and dad!len so i hope i do them both justice xoxox ill be updating this next week after the other prompts are done !

“No.”

  
Iris let out a sound of frustration at his point-blank refusal, her hands slapping gently down onto the countertop between them as she spoke, “And why not? C’mon Barr, give me one good reason and I’ll let this go, I promise.”

  
He wanted to bring up the multitude of past experiences that taught him no, she’d not let it go even if he did have a good enough excuse, but Barry held his tongue on that front. Iris meant well and she just wanted him to stop cluttering up her house with his sour moods and sad little eyes but he couldn’t. At his continued silence and likely dubious look, she bit her bottom lip like she always did before she brought up something Iris was sure was going to make his mood worse.

  
“I know things haven’t been going great lately, not since…”

  
Since the lightning strike.

  
Since he spent nine months in a coma.

  
Since he woke up lost and confused in hospital, body weak from atrophy to the news that in his absence the world had moved on. Iris was pregnant again, Joe was up for promotion, Cisco and Caitlin were working on a new project down at STAR Labs. And Barry had been fired. Of course, it wasn’t really that he’d been fired, the whole precinct had been downsized and the only CSI kept on the team was Julian.

  
The CCPD had given Barry great severance and ill-health pay, more than enough to cover all the hospital bills and find himself a nice new apartment downtown, but it wasn’t enough. He’d loved his job, loved being able to work with his family on making the city a better place, on finding a way to free his father.

  
But that had solved itself too. Eddie of all people had recognized someone in the background of one of the many crime scene photos Barry had strewn around his lab, the not so secret pin board of evidence he’d collected to try and prove Henry Allen’s innocence. A distant relative, Eobard Thawne or something equally ridiculous, who’d been pronounced dead the year before Nora Allen was killed.

  
Barry still wasn’t sure on all the details, but he gathered enough that he owed Eddie like, a billion thank yous that he’d be paying off for years to come. A million more for being able to finally hug his father just shy of a month after he woke up, no glass between them, no Iron Heights security to stop them.

  
It had been a jarring sensation – arms wrapped around his dad’s shoulders, taller by a few inches than the other man. Last time Barry had done it, he’d barely come to Henry’s waist. A painful and obvious reminder of all the years they’d lost.

  
So now he felt adrift. Henry had moved out of town after a week of catching up on everything he’d missed - close enough to visit at weekends if the mood struck, but he’d needed the space he said. To breathe fresh air after fifteen years in prison and as much as it had hurt, Barry helped his dad move to a nice little cabin a few cities over. They called at least once a week if not more, spent an hour switching between talking about their days and reminiscing and every now and then they’d make the commute to visit in person but it wasn’t enough. Not for him.

  
Unemployment and abandonment hit hard, even with Joe and Iris and Wally to keep him company. They all wanted to help and he knew that but man did he wish they’d stop.

Wally at least caught on quite quickly, simply giving Barry a smile and offer of a Mario Kart rematch when both of them had the time. It was nice, especially since Francine had kept his foster brother a secret for so many years before her health declined, before they suddenly had another mouth around the table who was churlish and rebellious.

  
The rest of the West family? Less understanding even though they meant well.

  
Every day Joe would offer to come over or invite Barry for family dinner, regale him with tales from the day, what new cases had cracked or interesting pieces of evidence - tried to get Barry to help him, to tick it all over in his brain like he used to at work. And sure, it helped at first, like he was still a part of the CCPD, still helping keep criminals off the streets but it wore off fast.

  
Frustration. Loss. Envy.

  
Joe stopped trying to bring cases home with him after one particularly explosive argument over beers last month that ended with the pair of them at opposite ends of the West family home, Eddie and Iris acting as increasingly stressed mediators. In the end, Iris had simply dumped a screaming baby Matthew onto Barry’s lap with a tired sigh and left them to it, hoping at least one of them would stop fussing.

  
Matthew had stopped crying instantly.

  
And that’s where it started. Innocent enough at first, his adoptive sister bringing round his pseudo-nephew for play dates in an effort to occupy Barry’s days. Eddie stopping by to drop the kid off when neither he nor his wife could manage to find a baby-sitter for the day, and Barry loved it. Sure, it was weird at first, neither of them sure what to make of the other, but eventually they’d managed to start bonding over what Barry did best. Science. There were hundreds of kid friendly experiments to carry out, all with household objects and ingredients and it left Barry feeling warm again.

  
Less alone.

  
And then Iris had started pushing him to find a new job, a slew of frankly traumatizing attempts at entering employment once again. The yoga instructor gig had been a new low, no matter how many times Iris told him he looked amazing, or Cisco commented on his flexibility. He didn’t need to hear that. Ever. Not from his friends and definitely not from the well-meaning if slightly leery old women in the park who took his short-lived class.

  
Barry ran a hand over his face, fingers pressing into skin to ward off a headache. So yes, Iris meant well, but-

  
“You really think being a nanny is a good idea? Iris, I can barely look after myself let alone be trusted to take care of someone else’s kid! What if they get hurt, or I upset them, or… or I break something in the house, or lose them, like, are you not seeing the many many ways this will go wrong?”

  
Her expression turned fondly exasperated, like she couldn’t believe he was going to be that stubborn, and it was an expression that meant nothing but trouble. “Barry, you’re great with Matty - that kid loves you. What makes you think it’ll be any different?”

  
“He’s family, of course it’s different.” He argued, brow working up to frown at the way she rolled her eyes in response. “Besides,” Barry continued before she could get out another attempt to convince him he was wrong, “Where would I even start with that? I doubt a job is just going to magically appear…”

  
And there was that look again. Slightly guilty, but no less smug as she produced a small piece of paper from his pocket and slid it across the countertop towards him. Scandalized, Barry snatched it up to see an address, number and a name printed neat and crisp. “You’re the worst.”

  
“I think you mean, I’m the best.” Iris shot back, mouth curled into a smile, “It’s just across town, you could even walk from your apartment and the guy’s sister is a friend of Cisco’s. Lisa said her brother’s too proud to ask for help himself, even though the man’s drowning.”

  
She spoke like it was a done deal already, as though Barry was just going to turn up on this man’s doorstep and start baby-sitting his kid. Cisco knowing him helped some of his apprehension, but that didn’t mean he was going to accept it on blind faith. Especially when the man in question had no desire for help himself. Barry had had enough of feeling unwanted. But then his mouth was moving, tone resigned, “If I go check this out, will you promise to stop forcing me into jobs I really, really don’t want to do?”

  
He might have begged, hands clasped together over his heart and mouth drawn up into a pleading pout - his trade-marked ‘I’m a sad puppy please say yes’ look that he’d perfected long before Joe took him in. Iris held out well, for a moment or two, before another sigh left her. “Fine, fine. So long as you stop whining about being bored.”

  
“Deal!”

  
Her smile filled with satisfaction and Barry suddenly, inexplicably, got the feeling that he'd just played right into her hands. Iris was sneaky like that. He blamed her reporter’s instincts. Whatever, if it meant a reprieve from her constant pushing, he'd take anything. A key rattled into the lock, front door opening and Barry had exactly five seconds to brace for impact and crouch down before his arms were full of excitable, wriggling three-year-old.

  
"Bear, Bear, Bear!" An endless stream of Matty's best approximation of his name, and god that never failed to make him smile no matter his mood.

  
Barry peppered raspberry kisses over any inch of his nephew's face he could reach, fingers digging into the kid’s soft sides to draw screeches as he tickled him, dimly aware of Eddie entering the kitchen at a far more sedate pace, a tired, "Hey Barr." thrown his way. He drew back from the boy to shoot the Detective a sympathetic once over - he looked beat from their walk, but Barry watched it vanish as he melted into Iris' welcoming arms.

  
It didn't sting to see them happy, not anymore.

  
He'd had four years to get over that particular brand of heartbreak.

  
"Hey Babe, you have any issues with the article?" Eddie asked once he'd taken his fill of Iris hugs and kisses, a final lingering one placed to her temple and the evening followed a familiar pattern from there.

  
Iris launched into the tirade she’d originally called Barry over for as Eddie poured himself a cup of coffee and settled at the kitchen island to listen. Matthew dragged him out into the living room and they soon became embroiled in an epic battle against orcs and trolls, Barry pulling faces and making sure to do all the voices while Matty clambered over the sofas and under the table.

  
An hour later, one sleepy child propped up against his chest on the floor while a documentary on Penguins quietly played in the background, Eddie poked a head around the corner to call them for dinner.

  
They always made him feel welcome at their table, insisted on it if he'd been helping one or both of them during the day. Barry got to hear about their days as he fussed Matthew and got him fed and took a level of stress off his parent's shoulders. It wasn't a burden and, with the number burning a hole into his pocket throughout the meal, he had to admit that maybe Iris was on to something.

  
How hard could it be, really, to look after one kid for a few hours a day?

  
\--------

  
The number turned out to be Lisa's, and that sent a sense of foreboding through Barry in a way that almost had him changing his mind. Didn't matter that she promised to take full responsibility if her brother lost his temper or kicked him out (a week's potential pay for him for the trouble, and Lisa only sighed at him when he tried to refuse). She ironed out the details as best she could; her brother's name was Leonard and he was single father to a quiet, well behaved seven-year-old called Michael. Leonard was up for promotion at some high-tech security company upstate and desperately needed someone to look after the kid as his hours got longer and longer to compensate the shift in position.

  
Lisa had her own issues, one of her colleagues off sick so now there was no one around to keep an eye on Michael during the day while she covered the hours.

  
Enter Barry.

  
They decided to start him off the following Monday - a half day at school for the kid and Lisa's last day off, which gave Barry more time to bond and figure out the basics before he became solely responsible. A thought that crept up on him bit by bit.

  
He spent the weekend trying to research childcare and what exactly went into keeping a seven-year-old occupied (desperately wishing he remembered more of his own childhood as guidance). Was Barry expected to help out around the house too? He wouldn’t complain if he did, despite all evidence to the contrary, he liked cleaning up when it wasn’t his own mess. What about school – Michael was old enough to be onto real subject matter, was he going to be asking for help with projects and homework?

  
Joe wasn’t much help when Barry stopped by for lunch, all three of his children were in their early to late twenties and living on their own, though only his daughter seemed to be managing to actually be an adult (Barr, y’ come round once a week with your laundry, you and Wally eat me out of house and home – it’s like y’ never left).

  
Cisco was a beacon in the dark after hours of spiralling into deep Google and YouTube searches looking for answers, a soft scoff of confidence when Barry finally called him late Saturday night, “Dude, y’know I have like ten baby cousins that live to make my aunt’s and uncle’s lives miserable, right?”

  
But it turned out all the advice he could really give was ‘watch cartoons and make sure they eat green vegetables now and then’. So, useless.

  
In the end he caved and turned to the instigator of seemingly all his current problems, calling Iris several times through the following day as each new dilemma presented itself in his mind, before her husband took the phone from her and firmly if not kindly told Barry that if he didn't stop and let them enjoy their Sunday evening, he'd regret it.

  
Eddie might have the demeanour and adorable countenance of a golden retriever, but something about his tone made Barry believe his threats of bodily harm.

  
He tossed and turned all night, body full of a static buzz that see-sawed between nervous excitement and just plain nerves, sick to his stomach with it by the time his alarm screamed through the apartment six hours later. Barry felt himself dragging his feet as he got ready, ran hands through his hair repeatedly to try and make it less of a mess, got dressed, changed his mind and dressed again. And again, until returning to his first outfit with a grimace at the time.

  
Late. On his first day. Great.

  
By the time he reached the neighbourhood – a cul-de-sac with a cute little park just down the road, all the houses red bricked and two storeys – Barry’s face was flushed from the light jog he’d had to maintain. Sweaty and out of breath, chest aching with phantom pain at the exertion, he had to bend at the waist and pant for a few moments just outside the eggshell blue home of his new employer.

  
A couple of toys littered the front yard, a football abandoned beside an overturned tricycle – a collection of race cars lost in the longer grass and fallen red leaves.

Something seemed off about the house, but Barry couldn’t place it, just on the tip of his tongue. He shook the thought off and took a deep breath as he hopped up the small set of steps toward the front door.

  
His knuckle hovered over the dark wood, and Barry had one final and desperate urge to run and not look back, gaze locked on the doorknob. He could take Iris’ nagging, had for the last fifteen years, another few months wouldn’t hurt right?

  
The choice was snatched from him as the door swung inwards sharply, raised voices flowing out onto the porch and Barry blinked dumbly as stared at man that filled the doorway. He was tall, just shy of Barry’s own height, broad shouldered and very clearly well-muscled beneath the snug fitting Henley the other wore. Sharp jawline and sharper eyes, such a vivid blue Barry momentarily forgot he was standing in the man’s way, enraptured by the way they stared through him.

  
If this was Leonard Snart, then Barry was fucked with a capital F.

  
The man shifted, hand releasing the handle as he turned back to talk over his shoulder into the house, and oh that voice. Hard and nasal, and Barry missed what he said, too caught in the dark look aimed his way when the guy turned back, unimpressed.

  
“I don’t know what my sister told you, but I don’t need a baby-sitter – especially one that looks like they’re barely out of high school.”

  
Oh right, the job.

  
Barry bristled a little as the words registered past his instant admiration, brushed aside to make way for his irritation and snapped back, “I’m twenty-eight!”

  
It earned him a snort, dismissive, and the man was pushing past him out down the porch steps and toward the SUV parked at the furthest edge of the drive-way. Barry watched with growing frustration as the man paused, turned, and wiggled his fingers at him in a mock wave. Barry’s mouth dropped open, incredulous, and didn’t quite manage to gather his thoughts quick enough to respond before the car had pulled off the drive and out onto the road.

  
“Sorry about him, Lenny’s always a bit testy first thing in the morning.” Came a smooth drawl behind him, and Barry spun on his heel to see a woman with dark waves, smirk firmly in place. It took a moment, but he managed to put two and two together as he compared their faces and- “You must be Lisa.”

  
“Guilty.” Lisa replied with a wink, ushering him inside with one hand. She seemed a near opposite to her brother, looser and with a much, much warmer countenance (better manners too). She left him in the doorway, confident that he’d follow. “Why don’t you come on inside cutie, and I’ll introduce you to the little squirt. We can get into the juicy details later.”

  
Barry glanced back to the road where he could just make out the retreating rear of Leonard’s car at the junction. He should go. He really should leave, forget about this whole ordeal and beg for his job back at the Sports Centre – he could take the ogling, he was sure of it.

  
He stepped into the hallway and closed the door softly behind himself, unable to shake the feeling this was going to be a lot more trouble than it was worth.


End file.
